Your freckles mirror spots in time.
Growing up I called them dots
Unsure of their meaning, seemingly innocuous
But being older I see the same dots on me
Tickling my skin, imagination
Wonders of where they began.
Whenever we stand side by side I see myself in you
In the dots
I see my grandma, her warts, her spots.
You try to hide warts with make up that’s dark.
A cheetah without spots is a mere cat
You without your identifiers, undone.
Lost is our familial lineage
The unique identity in one mark.
Warts grow, expand,
They attributed Edith May’s to cancer
She says; “my God made me this way”
Warts maturing as the mind does
As the heart grows
As do your wings
What is the speed of love can I be measured the distance and time – or is it weighted?
How long would you wait on this graveyard-heart to reciprocate feelings for you?
I pour into you in attempts to strengthen me –
Logic unfound. Love unbound.
Trying to get you to be strong and I know you can be – possibly for another woman or is it depending on the incumbent my heart
Must I vacate the space that was once occupied by wisdom, fearlessness and the cries of a heart other than your own?
Is my love for you dependent on a depletion of love for those that came before you or those that do not enter during
I am a lover and my love is something I cannot control; it flows through my being freely. I cannot limit the views of my heart to satisfy the ego of your soul.
I cannot contain my love.
I cannot guarantee that my mind will not be hindered by other contenders.
I cannot commit myself to you because a life of restricted love is insanity.
You call me angel but I cannot save you.
I study your face,
memorizing every freckle
mesmerized by the sharp contours of your jawline
and every hair that frames it so perfectly
the small dimple in your cheek when you smile broadens in the way you reserve for only me.
The ways your eyes soften when we make contact,
yet reflect strength;
a stoic simplicity,
in a simple blink.
Your idiosyncrasies have me falling so deeply in love with you.
Finding a magnitude of detail and desire
in the way your eyes retire from mine when I’ve won a fight,
yet always retrace the lines back to my gaze in a maze of intricacies
until our lips meet gently, ceasing my fantasy.
I memorize the details of your face
in hopes that if we ever part,
these memories will regenerate in my mind.
I revel in every moment that you are mine reminiscing of a time I yearned for a love filled with beauty between the lines.
My heart has two homes
One made of glass and one made of stone,
yet I remain incomplete, un-whole
throwing stones at glass
trying to penetrate your perfection,
looking for a crack in your pristine transparency
so I can see a reflection of me.
You are perfect and I am unworthy
dirty, undeserving of your love.
But I stay complacently,
hoping maybe, one day I can be the woman you deserve.
Stringing you along singing the same old song
I cry, I know I’m wrong
I don’t know what to do with your love
I don’t know how to live without your strength.
My heart, a place of stone,
impenetrable, soiled, bruised
every negative adjective I can use
I refuse to force another into its muck
So I’m stuck
halfhearted, half of me is still sitting in another’s arms
with a love that didn’t last.
I don’t know how to let go of the past.
I reach for my stone home
because for its solitude and safety
familiarity I can’t refuse
throwing stones at glass so pure, pristine and perfect
Vulnerable and afraid
stupid and betraying the love of my life
for safety and familiarity.
But the cold stone is all I can relate to,
hardened by the trials of life
I feel at home inside these walls of stone
hiding from my mistakes, my mess, my heartbreak
I need to feel the cold I deserve
the hardening, the pain. I hide the real me in these stone walls
from the glass that exposes the pain.
u crept upon me unexpectedly n I didn’t know what would come next but I let you in
and I slowly fell in love with you and your being and all you do for me
I felt us connect so much more deeply than I could even imagine
I felt I felt
I felt emotions I cannot verbalize and poetry cannot summarize
never did I surmise that I would be the object of such affection and attention
such caring and love that carried me to another dimension
yes i fell in love with you the same way one catches a butterfly
slowly methodically then all at once
i felt the surge of emotion one night when our minds connected long before our lips did
when we synchronized before our close fell to the floor
i knew it was love when you said you would protect me
when you sacrificed a Boston Creme to see me happy
when you told me of your hopes and dreams i knew that i had never seen anyone more alluring when i saw you naked with your clothes on
i knew that this was something new
i knew I was scared
and I knew i was in love
i didn’t know that you were not mine to love
that your love is something given freely to those you encounter
that your destiny was to save souls in need
i did not know that i had been surrounded by the glow of an angel
and i cannot hold on to the love of one who loves the universe for they will always be growing into someone new
i did not know that the you i thought i knew and needed had already superseded my expectations for us
i did not know that you Source your energy from the Sun and not me so while i waited for us to rise to a higher plane
you had already fled to the next soul
my angel i see your love in the remains of mine for you
in the tears i cry for you
i see your love in the sunsets and in the skies because it was there you taught me how to love myself
What does it mean to love?
Is it a noun or is it a verb?
Is it a feeling, anything more than just a word?
For years I mused what the essence of love could possibly mean.
I’ve heard that it can make you feel as royal as the queen
As high as a kite
As if you lie on cloud nine.
I thought love was possession,
But I learned my lesson when the man I thought I loved didn’t respect my discretion.
Love became an interjection to the usual direction of my life, a lesson I was not ready to learn. I became afraid to love.
Real love is simple, uncomplicated and unadulterated giving. I’ve spent my whole life trying to get a man to love me by changing myself to suit his needs. I sought unconditional love by giving myself conditions to be loved. I thought, “He must love me because I’m smart. Or, he must love me because my makeup is perfectly applied and my curls are intact.” In my heart, I believed that once these conditions were removed, the love would be also. Many men proved my theories to be true. But, what I didn’t understand was, these men sought my body and lusted after me. I never loved them, nor did they love me.
Love at its core is the act of selfless giving. Giving your all to someone just to see them smile is loving. There is no required reciprocal act because making your lover happy makes you equally happy. Both lovers will do the same for each other when the love is shared between two people, causing their love to grow. Love is indeed an action word that should be displayed through acts of affection, kindness, and giving. There are different ways to express love and the way it is shown to the ‘beloved’ depends entirely on their ‘lover’, but it is most definitely always shown.
My greatest mistake in love was trying to change myself to be worthy of love. This caused my self-worth and self-love to dwindle. Changing myself instead of expressing my love for the person that holds my affection proved to them that I was not worthy of love. I was untrustworthy. If even my love for myself was conditional, how could they love and trust me to love them for who they are? It would be impossible for love to grow between us when I was too afraid to release any love from my being into someone else. My reserves of love were so depleted that I hoarded all ounces of warmth that I possessed.
It was only when I began to love myself, that I became able to trust my body to regenerate love once it had been shared with others, that I was abe to give love freely. I had to fall in love with myself before I was capable of loving anyone else. Once I was comfortable sharing my love, I poured it into a man who I trusted would do the same for me. We fell in love through acts of kindness, affection, honesty and pure intentions. It is love at it’s simplest form.